pably neglecting her, and
expressed the hope that he would dine with her the next day, and by his
own observation, convince himself that her grief for his long absence was
really injuring her looks. How wearily she had striven to prevent
letting a tear fall upon the tinted paper, what heroic courage she had
expended in finding sportive turns of speech, subdued, even mirthful
expressions, could not be perceived in the little missive. Robert read
it with distrust, but, in spite of the most cautious scrutiny, he did not
find a single word whose vehemence could disquiet him, not a single
letter which was nervously emphasized or written, or betrayed a trembling
hand, so he accepted the invitation.

Frau von der Lehde made no mistake. Her self-control did not desert her
a moment. She received Robert calmly and affectionately, as though
nothing had occurred between them, the dinner passed delightfully in
easy, gay conversation about all sorts of indifferent matters, and when
he was leaving she held out both hands and said, looking directly into
his eyes:

"Tuesday, at least, shall again be mine in future, shall it not?"

He kissed her hand, touched by such unselfish, faithful devotion.

It was a strange relation which, from that time, existed unshadowed
between these two for more than a decade. Else surrounded Robert with an
atmosphere of warm, unvarying tenderness which, though perhaps only from
habit, she understood how to render a necessity of his life. She
insisted upon being the confidant of all his feelings; no outburst of
anger ever betrayed what she experienced during his confessions, not even
a sorrowful quiver of the features ever reminded him to be on his guard;
she possessed inexhaustible indulgence for his frivolities, earnest
sympathy for his fleeting love-sorrows, hateful or ridiculous as they
usually appeared to an uninterested witness, counsel and comfort when an
adventure took an unpleasant turn, and she was satisfied if, in an
ebullition of gratitude, he then pressed her to his heart, kissed her
hands and her cheeks, and assured her that she was the dearest, noblest,
and most lovable woman whom he had ever known. But when she played this
role of a feminine providence, who was apparently free from the ordinary
weaknesses of her sex, when she carefully repressed every emotion of
jealousy at the sight of his inconstancy, she was not free from a selfish
motive. She still hoped that some day he would g